


lavender vanilla

by number3936



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Sappy, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character, Unsafe Binding Practices, binder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24393622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/number3936/pseuds/number3936
Summary: kinkmeme fill:"Request for trans Felix getting spoilt in the baths by his best friend and/or boyfriend and/or husband after wearing his binder all day during training.After such a rough day, Sylvain gets Felix in a hot, relaxing bath and lovingly massages his aching titties with soothing oils until he melts into a sleepy happy puddle.+They’re married. LOVING MARRIAGES ARE MY BIGGEST KINK+Sylvain in the end veeeryy gently fucks Fe in the bath+Felix is so relaxed he’s half-asleep half-awake when Sylvain fucks him for a bit of very light and very trusting consensual somnophilia+A lot of soft cuddling and sleepy kisses from Felix <3"
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 78





	lavender vanilla

**Author's Note:**

> warning: feminine language for trans male character (breasts, tit, clit)

It’s some time, late in the afternoon. Sylvain is in master’s suite, sitting behind the desk that’s set up in the corner of the entrance sitting room. He’s got papers and books set out in front of him and his glasses perched on his nose as he looks over the scribbled words. He’s having a pretty nice afternoon actually. It’s summer in Fraldarius, which means the afternoon sun actually provides heat as it shines softly through the windows. The work he’s doing is routine, and mind numbing but he feels… Satisfied with it. It’s been a fairly calm day, he’s slept and eaten well, and now he’s just finishing his duties before dinner. Nice and calm. 

So of course, it doesn’t surprise him when the calm is interrupted by the door being flung open and his dear husband stomping inside. As grumpy as Felix looks, Sylvain can’t help the smile that forms on his face when he sees him – if grumpiness turned him off, he wouldn’t be with Felix of all people. Sylvain would actually describe himself as a Grumpy Felix Expert, boasting that he knows all the nuances of Felix’s expressions, the millimetre differences between certain slants of his eyebrows and all that. Sylvain may be all hot air about some things, but never about Felix. 

This is how he knows that Felix is not his usual grumpy, or even really grumpy. It edges more into annoyed-upset. With a little bit of pained. He would try to garner more information from Felix’s expression, but he only manages to catch a glimpse of it as Felix storms passed, going directly towards their bathing room without even stopping to greet Sylvain. Or acknowledge him at all. Sylvain is truly proud of himself that he is too worried about Felix’s expression that he doesn’t even feel hurt about the snub. 

Sylvain pulls his glasses off, carefully folding them and putting them on the designated holder. When he stands up, he stretches, feeling the kinks in his back shift and pop satisfyingly. He scratches at his jaw as he ambles his way towards the bathing room, where the door is so enticingly left open. Though Sylvain almost certain Felix didn’t do that on purpose. It’s a toss up whether it’s by habit or preoccupation. 

His head goes through the door first, before the rest of his body follows a moment later, his boots clicking as the flooring changes from polished stone to tile. Felix doesn’t turn to look at him, but Sylvain can tell that he’s been noticed, if only because Felix hasn’t spooked and drawn his sword at the intrusion. The smaller man is standing closer to the entrance than Sylvain expected, and he’s still wearing most of his clothes even though Sylvain’s followed a minute or so later. He’s still wearing his boots, trousers, sword belt and swords, and -. Sylvain makes a noise of understanding as he identifies the source of the problem. Felix’s shoulder shifts down and his face turns just enough that he can look at Sylvain out of the corner of his eyes, his face pinched and unhappy. His vest and shirt are off, revealing the tough, tight, beige-coloured fabric that constitutes one of his binders. Felix doesn’t wear binders that much, usually only reserving them for times where he has to actually coordinate an outfit, such as certain events, meetings and outings. Because he – usually – takes good care of his body. One would expect Felix to be the ‘his way or the highway’ type of person, but he’s surprisingly capable of taking advice and direction when they come from a reputable source and is proven to work. So; he eats well, despite dislike vegetables, and he takes appropriate rest days from sword practice, despite being a training-freak, and he doesn’t wear a binder in unsafe situations. Except, apparently, today. A day where Felix was at the training ground all day, from his own drills in the morning to instructing the soldiers, then cadets, and then performing demonstrations.

“You’re wearing it? Today?” Sylvain says, obviously failing to keep the soft scold out of his voice as Felix puffs up in irritation. Felix is usually good about not wearing his binder during training or, you know, the war – but he has done it before, and they have had this conversation before. 

“Shut up, I had to, just- Make yourself useful,” Felix spits. He lifts his arms up, getting them out of the way of the hooks at the side that he was trying to get undone before Sylvain came in. He can’t lift his arms up very far or twist to the side that much - the wince that flits across his face when he tries explains why. There’s already redness peeking out from underneath the clothing, down Felix’s ribs and sides, and that says nothing for the marks from the hits he’d sustained during training today. Sylvain carefully but briskly pinches the two sides together, pushes them together, valiantly ignores the bitten off whimper, and unlatches them. He pulls the clothing away from Felix body and helps him get his arms out of the holes before Sylvain backs off, picking up Felix’s shirt putting both items on the chair. 

The sectioned-off part of Sylvain’s brain specifically reserved for thinking about how beautiful Felix is at all hours of the day once again, to no one’s surprise, notes how beautiful Felix looks, even like this. He’s covered in sweat, including his hair, the half which has fallen out of his bun plastered against his face in a mess. The splotchy red flush on his face and torso, plus yellow-green-purple of old bruises dotted in random places, stand out like beacons on his pallid skin. Whatever parts of his skin that isn’t covered in scars that is. His breasts are droopy and weirdly squished from being bound all day. He has an angry, constipated look on his face. And yet…

How is it possible that Felix is this beautiful? Felix truly ruined him for anyone else the moment Sylvain set eyes on him.

Sylvain carefully cups Felix’s face, and presses soft kisses to his gross sweaty forehead, needing to do something to soothe the aching fondness in his chest. “Is this funny to you?” Felix grumbles in his ‘I’m not actually mad’ voice. His hands come up to fist in Sylvain’s shirt while Sylvain kisses him another couple of times. 

“Next time come to me, okay? We’ll figure something out,” Sylvain soothes his hand down the back of Felix’s head, finishing the movement by cupping under it and massaging his fingers into Felix’s scalp. He watches with barely supressed glee as his cranky husband all but melts against him. The smaller man sways into Sylvain, his face bumping against Sylvain’s shoulder and ends up leaning into his chest. 

“What’s that going to do? You can’t fuck it out of me,” Felix huffs, tucking his face into Sylvain’s neck, his pretty little nose brushing over the muscles there. 

“I know you think my dick is magic love, but no.” Sylvain grins and weathers a smack to his shoulder for that one. “I don’t know, but I think we can figure something out.” He says. Truthfully Sylvain doesn’t have a single idea about how to soothe Felix when he feels the feelings that make him wear a binder in dangerous situations, he doesn’t have a clue what that feels like, but… He has to try. Before Felix breaks a rib or goes into battle unable to breathe properly. 

Felix doesn’t bother to respond. Probably because Sylvain has continued to massage the back of his head - his eyelids are doing that fluttery thing and more and more weight is leaning on Sylvain. Damn, Sylvain just wants to… Cuddle the hell out of him. “Come on then,” Sylvain murmurs. He waits for a moment, but Felix doesn’t deign him with a response. Only when Sylvain starts to pull away does Felix stir, grunting at him like a damn caveman and gripping tighter to his shirt. So cute. 

Still, Sylvain does have to pull away. Felix stands there pouting grumpily when Sylvain finally peels his cute angry husband off of him. He wants to do it about as much as Felix wants to, but one of them has to be responsible, they can’t just keep cuddling in the bathroom forever. Sylvain undoes Felix’s swordbelt, probably the only one with the honour of being able to touch it without getting a knife in his throat. He undoes the buckle and slings the belt over his shoulder while he unbuttons Felix’s pants. He takes the waistband of both Felix’s trousers and his smallclothes and peels them down, squatting so he can get them off of Felix’s ankles. Sylvain’s very proud of himself when he manages a quick kiss to Felix’s knee and scoots backwards before he can get a knee to the face. He diligently takes the clothes to the laundry basket, and adds his own to the pile while he’s there. 

By the time Sylvain is done, Felix has made his way over to the little stool and is patiently waiting for Sylvain to join him. Sylvain huffs, amused that they’ve bathed together so many times they apparently have a routine now and that he’s managed to make Mr. ‘I can do everything myself’ docile enough to wait for Sylvain to serve him. Sylvain loves it. 

Sylvain heads to the big tub and turns on the water, setting it to fill slowly. He fills two washing buckets and brings them back to Felix one at a time. Apparently he hasn’t made Felix docile enough because he has to shoo Felix away from trying to wash himself before Sylvain makes it back with the second bucket. Sylvain steals the soaped-up wash cloth from Felix when he returns and drags his stool over, sitting in front of Felix. “Stop that,” he chides, “You’re under my care now.” He punctuates this sentence by making him comfortable between Felix’s thighs (nice) and picking up where Felix left off.

“You’re trying to coddle me into uselessness,” Felix accuses him. Sylvain snorts, glancing up at Felix’s face, then back down to where he’s rubbing the cloth up Felix’s calf, a ring around his knee, little massaging circles up his thigh, then switches to the other leg and starts again. Even as suds covers Felix’s thighs, Sylvain keeps rubbing his fingers into the muscles there, pushing at the tension there until Felix’s no longer has his feet flat on the floor and his legs are splayed bonelessly. There’s a little swirl of pride and pleasure in Sylvain’s chest at that. “What, nothing to say?” Felix says above him, and Sylvain stops in his movements, the cloth now pressed to Felix’s hip. 

“Uh... What?” Sylvain says, a tad stupidly. Felix opens his mouth to say something but Sylvain suddenly recalls that Felix had said something and he’d been too distracted by touching Felix’ legs to reply. Not the first time. “Uh, sure.” He rushes to say, and after a silent pause, a helpless laugh bursts forth. Apparently it just takes Felix’s legs to destroy all the wit Sylvain once had. Felix’s expression is that hilarious mix of wanting to strangle Sylvain, and wanting to kiss him. Felix never cared much for his fabulous wit anyway. 

No more words follow from either of them, the conversations have already been worked through multiple times; no, Felix, it’s not a sexual thing even if my dick gets hard, Sylvain stop asking and just do what you want I’ll tell you if I don’t like it, please, Felix just sit back and let yourself enjoy it because I love doing this for you, e.c.t. One hand spreads the soap over Felix’s body, cleaning him, and then both hands press against Felix’s warm, wet skin, massaging, rubbing. Sylvain works up his husband’s torso before moving to his arms – Felix had already washed his chest area so Sylvain leaves it. Once he’s done with Felix’s arms, he gathers more soap onto the cloth. Where once he would move to the back, instead he just moves closer, letting his knees bracket Felix’s hips. It’s harder to wash Felix’s back like this, but it’s more effective in the long run, and it’s not like he needs to look at Felix’s back… It’s almost nicer like this – he can close his eyes and focus on how Felix’s skin feels beneath his hands. Starting from the bottom, the pretty little divots above his ass, his too-small waist, the knobs of his spine, the strong back muscles, sharp shoulder blades. Sylvain starts humming softly as he rubs his hands up and down Felix’s back, touching even as he’s done washing. 

Once he’s had his fill, he rinses the soap off of Felix’s body, washing it down the drain along with the day’s mess. Then, arguably Sylvain’s favourite part. He carefully dampens Felix’s hair, cupping water from the washing basin and letting it fall over Felix’s hair. Once it’s wet enough, he pulls over the little rack of oils and soaps, sourced entirely by yours truly because Felix would wash himself with dish soap if left to do it. Sylvain lathers his hands up with one of the soaps, and pulls his hands through the strands of Felix’s hair, carefully tugging knots free as he goes. He presses his hands to Felix’s scalp and starts dragging his fingers in slow, firm circles. It’s so beautiful how Felix loses tension – he slowly, bit by bit, melts back into Sylvain until all at once the thread snaps and he just sinks forward. When he’d done this with Sylvain behind him, his head ends up on Sylvain’s lap and they have to juggle the position around. Now Sylvain knows enough to stay in front of Felix so Felix can fall onto his shoulder while Sylvain continues to wash his hair. Even doing it so many times, Sylvain can’t help the little burst of warmth his heart gives when Felix curls into him, his warm cheek pressed to Sylvain’s damn shoulder.

Sylvain drops a few soft kisses onto Felix’s forehead as he continues the movements of his hands. Sylvain eases Felix back, one arm holding him solidly around his back while he rinses the soap out of Felix’s hair. Felix is so relaxed, trusting Sylvain entirely with his weight, letting Sylvain move and rearrange him. Felix doesn’t even stir, his eyelids remaining closed, his lovely eyelashes dark against his cheeks. His mouth slightly parted. The flush on his cheeks and shoulders no longer due to embarrassment or exercise, but instead due to the warmth of the room and Sylvain’s touches. Fuck, Sylvain’s in love with him.

He eases Felix up, repeating the process with another shampoo, not skimping on the massage at all. There’s no tension for Felix left to lose, but Sylvain continues to press his fingertips into Felix’s scalp. He finishes with a conditioner, and then an oil that makes Felix’s hair actually cooperate when Sylvain brushes it in the morning. He’d go for more if any more product wouldn’t just fuck everything up. 

Once he’s done, Felix’s hair rinsed with the water left in the bucket, he can’t help but brush Felix’s hair to the side and kiss a little line down his neck. Finally, Felix stirs, eyes fluttering open – but he still doesn’t move. “Time to get in the bath, love,” Sylvain says, his voice rumbling in a way he has never been able to replicate on purpose. Felix makes a little noise, attempting to lift his hand, only managing to get it as far as Sylvain’s thigh. His eyes close slowly, stay closed for a moment, before they open back up again. 

“You tricked me again,” Felix says, voice as soft as a whisper. He can’t even manage the energy to put the accusation in his tone. Felix and Sylvain both enjoy when Felix reciprocates and washes Sylvain too, but today is not the time for that. To be honest, most of the time only one of them gets washed before it devolves into either Felix too pampered to move or Sylvain too horny to do anything but drag Felix onto his lap. Felix tries for another movement, his hand wavering in the air as he tries to touch Sylvain’s dick, where he’s currently sporting a half chub. 

Sylvain grabs Felix’s hand before it makes contact and lifts it to his face giving each knuckle a loving kiss. “Later,” He says, which is better than ‘not now’ or ‘you don’t need to’. This one doesn’t cause Felix to wrestle his limbs into moving again, and instead he sinks back into Sylvain, allowing it. Sylvain presses another kiss to his pretty, pretty fingers in a silent thank you. “I’ll join you in the bath in a moment, Fe,” Sylvain tells him, his volume matching Felix’s unconsciously. He eases Felix’s thighs over his own and pulls him up into his lap. One arm around Felix’s waist, the other under his ass, Sylvain heaves them both up with a grunt. He only ever continues training for moments like this because damn, Felix is Not Light. 

Sylvain carries Felix to the bath and steps over the rim so he can sink down to his knees and arrange Felix nicely on the seat. The water comes up to Felix’s waist – perfect. Sylvain turns off the water and steps out of the bath. He doesn’t take long washing himself. Once he would have his own little beauty routine as long as the one he gives Felix, make sure his hair was perfectly done, and even after they got together, making sure he was still good looking enough for Felix. That notion had been pretty thoroughly destroyed by Felix early in on their relationship. Sylvain gets a little helpless smile as he rubs soap through his hair, thinking about Felix’s deadpan ‘I don’t care about the way your hair flicks, or how clear your face is, just-‘ and then Felix had trailed off there, getting embarrassed about the things he actually cared about. Namely, Sylvain’s muscles. Besides, it’s much more important for Sylvain to get back to Felix as fast as possible.

After quickly lathering himself with soap and rinsing off with the water from the other bucket, Sylvain returns to Felix. He doesn’t return empty handed, instead he brings a little rack of oils with him. He sets them down on the shelf next to the bathtub and crowds in next to Felix, bring him close. “Fe, can I touch your chest?” He murmurs. He presses his hand against Felix’s sternum, fingers just brushing the outline of Felix’s ribs. “I brought the oils,” he says in explanation. He’s sure Felix heard them, but he hasn’t opened his eyes and Sylvain is not entirely sure Felix is employing a lot of brain power at the moment. 

Felix doesn’t hesitate – he nods simply, and then replies with a soft affirmative hum. It’s enough to make Sylvain’s chest wobble. That Felix apparently struggled enough with himself today that he had to wear his binder, but will allow Sylvain to touch him there without a thought. “Thank you,” Sylvain whispers, reverent. 

Sylvain arranges Felix properly, sitting him between his legs with his back to Sylvain’s chest. He leads Felix’s head to rest on his shoulder. The only negative of this position is that Sylvain’s dick is pressing against Felix’s back and it takes approximately half of his brain to constantly stop himself from rutting upwards… Against that perfect, smooth skin…

Sylvain shakes his head. 

Felix wouldn’t mind… He’d make those soft, wonderful little noises…

Sylvain shakes his head harder, until Felix grunts, tired of getting jostled. 

“Sorry,” Sylvain whispers to him. He’ll just have to deal with the need throbbing between in his legs. Right now – Felix. He reaches over for a bottle of oil specifically for massaging; it sinks into the skin with a special kind of heat for relaxing muscles and soothing hurts. They have multiple bottles of the stuff, mostly for Felix after training, but it works wonders for his poor squished breasts too. 

Once Sylvain’s hands are covered in the stuff, he starts with his hands over Felix’s ribs. His thumbs against Felix’s sides, braced and pushing into his muscles, while his fingers drag long and deep over his ribs. And – there are the soft, breathy noises. Sylvain’s cock throbs in response. Even if he wasn’t hard, he would instantly be after hearing the little moans that are dropping from Felix’s mouth. As relaxed as he is now, he’s easy with them, not bothering to muffle himself. An internal war breaks out between Sylvain’s love for Felix and Sylvain’s horniness for Felix and his Love only wins because Felix – somehow able to sense Sylvain’s conflict – gives a cute, breathless little giggle. The one that Sylvain almost never hears because Felix never allows himself to make that noise. Helpless to it, Sylvain presses his face to the side of Felix’s head, presses his lips to Felix’s cheek. For a moment, Felix’s eyes open, molten amber, so soft, so beautiful. He’s captured for the long, long moment, until Felix closes his eyes again. 

Honestly a little shaken by the wave of emotion that rises, Sylvain silently returns to his duty. He swallows. Sylvain glances at Felix again, and then looks down – stupidly. He watches as his hands circle to touch, and then drag upwards, cupping Felix’s perfect, perfect breasts. He bites his lip to strangle the groan building in his throat, but Felix doesn’t bother. A low, whispered moan falls from his mouth –

“Fe-” Sylvain says, voice tight with restraint, but he doesn’t get to finish his request because Felix, beautiful, wonderful, Felix. His Felix replies – 

“Yes,” It’s nothing more than a sigh, an exhalation curling against Sylvain’s throat. 

Sylvain moans gratefully in response. His arms disappear beneath the water, ruining the oil over his hands. Whatever, they have more. He carefully, slowly lifts Felix by the waist and brings him back onto his lap. He takes a hold of his dick with one hand and parts Felix’s folds with the other. Sylvain presses the head of it against Felix’s entrance and, he really means to go in with careful, measured thrusts, but he makes one movement and he’s sinking in. Sylvain moans helplessly as his cock is sheathed by Felix’s delicious, warm, wet heat. He has to wrap his arms around Felix, shuddering through the pleasure that curls around his muscles. After a few moments he can pull away – Sylvain wipes his mouth carefully, in case he might be drooling – and relax back into the tub. He still has to take a couple of moments to just… Bask in the feeling, before he manages to scrounge up the brainpower to continue from somewhere. 

Sylvain reaches out of the tub, dries his hands on the dry washcloth sitting there and tries for take two. Hopefully this time he’ll manage to go five minutes before he’s rendered dumb and useless by Felix’s wonderful body. He gathers another coating of oil on his hands and brings his hands back to Felix’s chest. Once again, he cups Felix’s lovely breasts. Fuck, they’re so perfect, they fit so nicely in his hands, the weight of them… Sylvain’s brainpower blinks out for a moment as he just holds Felix’s breasts for a moment, before the lights turn back on. It is so hard having such an attractive husband. 

But. He has a duty. Sylvain gently presses his fingers into the soft fat and starts rolling them, soothing Felix’s aches. His thumbs ontop of Felix’s breasts press the little mounds down into his palm and fingers and his fingers press hard enough to rub against the pecs and ribcage below. Felix is a little louder now, and has gained enough strength in his spine to arch his back, but Sylvain is pretty sure he’s the one that’s moving his hips, his dick making little, rolling movements inside Felix. Sylvain groans and feels the shudder that overtakes Felix’s body from the sound of it. Sylvain is aware that his movements are hard and rough, but he’s also well aware just how much Felix likes pain – and Sylvain is pretty sure his brain is melting out of his ears. He might come from just this.

Desperate to complete his objective before he devolves into an utter mess, Sylvain’s hands slide up – Felix makes a devastating little noise when Sylvain’s palms drag over his nipples – and splay out. His fingers dig in from Felix’s collarbones to the top of his pecs and his hands cover so much of Felix’s skin. He can feel Felix’s harsh breathes getting quicker as his chest rises and falls below Sylvain’s hands. Sylvain has the urge to apologise for being such a lech when he’s supposed to be helping Felix out, but Felix is making the most lovely, needy noises that Sylvain can’t bear to interrupt him. 

Unable to hold out much longer, Sylvain circles his hands back down, taking Felix’s pretty breasts back into his hands. He’s half massaging, half groping, gently squishing Felix’s breasts and pressing his fingers into the beautiful soft fat there. Sylvain is definitely drooling now. He tucks his fac down into Felix’s neck and seals his mouth over the skin there, sucking. His thumb and his forefinger circle together and he presses them against Felix’s nipples, slowly press add rubbing at the pretty pink buds. A tremble runs down Felix’s spine and he pulses around Sylvain with a high moan. 

“Oh, Fe,” Sylvain moans. Felix tries to say something in response, Sylvain’s pretty sure it’s his name, but it gets lost, slurred against Sylvain’s cheek. Sylvain gives one tug to Felix’s nipples before one hand splays over Felix’s chest and the other slides down. He presses Felix back against him, his hand heavy over Felix, and his fingers pressing in deep, making stuttering attempts at massaging just under Felix’s collarbone. His other hand is less nice, instead he pushes his fingers between Felix’s folds – so much hotter than the water around them. He finds the little nub there just above Felix’s entrance and rubs over it in long, firm strokes. Felix convulses on top of him with a loud, drawn out keen, and he clenches down on Sylvain inside him in rhythmic pulses. Sylvain accidentally sucks hard enough at Felix’s neck that the keen turns into a little whimper. 

He can’t help it any more. Sylvain tips back, supporting his back on the rim of the bath and plants his feet properly on the bathtub floor. He rolls his hips upwards, long grinds into Felix’s perfect, velvet heat. His head drops back and he takes one of Felix’s tits in his hands again, squeezing and groping. His head tips back and his noises grow in volume, soon ricocheting around the tiled room. Felix seems to like that, his moans dissolve into little whimpers at the end. He turns his face into Sylvain’s neck and makes an attempt at biting him, his teeth scraping over the exposed muscles there but he doesn’t manage it. 

Sylvain finishes first, pushing himself deep inside Felix and coming with a chocked off moan. He doesn’t move as he comes, instead he grabs at Felix’s waist and shoulder, holding him down, keeping his cock deep inside. His orgasm rolls through him with shocking force considering how slow and soft the sex was. The pleasure pulls at his muscles in long waves until it drags out all the energy and he’s left trembling in the wake of it. Sylvain moans pathetically afterwards, pressing his face into Felix’s shoulder. 

Of course he’s not a selfish lover – after he manages to knock two braincells together, he takes care of Felix. He tucks his hands down, the fingers of one hand working at Felix’s clit, the other filling Felix after Sylvain’s soft dick falls out. Felix makes hitching little moans against the side of Sylvain’s face, and his body starts twitching, hips pushing into Sylvain’s hands until Sylvain brings him off. Sylvain coos at him quietly, praising him with a low, soft voice as Felix shudders in his arms. Felix’s moans brain off into sobs near the end of his orgasm and when it’s over, Sylvain brings him into his arms, holding him tightly. He feels worn out somehow, and yet he doesn’t stop moving. He whispers loving little words to Felix, cupping his face with one hand and pressing kisses everywhere. He feels full to the brim of love and warmth that it’s tipping out and spilling everywhere. 

“Syl,” Felix whispers, his beautiful golden eyes opening and looking straight at Sylvain, directly into him and Sylvain nearly breaks with the force of his affection. Felix does that soft little giggle again, his eyes curving upwards with his smile and he leans forward, giving Sylvain a slow, loving kiss. When he pulls away, Sylvain follows him helplessly, only stopping when he nearly tips them up into the water. 

“Oh, I love you Felix,” Sylvain says. He has to say. Felix’s hands come up, pressing against his cheeks. The wetness drips down Sylvain’s jaw and drops plink into the water. Felix murmurs his response, and kisses Sylvain again. 

Eventually they manage to get out of the bath. Sylvain dries Felix, and then himself, and then takes Felix to bed. They curl up there, warm bare skin tangled and pressed together. They don’t sleep yet, instead they trade soft, murmured words full of love and affection until the candles burn out and they slowly slip off to sleep together, hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/number3936)  
> msg me if u rp :D 
> 
> im happy to make my brand trans felix  
> and i love bathing scenes.. the intimacy
> 
> please comment <3


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